


There are Worse Things I Could Do

by Lilith_In_The_Garden



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU/Trope Day, Davekat Week 2017, Humanstuck, M/M, Trans Karkat Vantas, musical AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 16:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilith_In_The_Garden/pseuds/Lilith_In_The_Garden
Summary: Dave really really like that voice he hears singing upstairs every day.





	There are Worse Things I Could Do

The first time you hear the voice, you’re outside on your little balcony, trying to mix music.

Here’s the thing about making music; it’s pretty fucking hard to do when someone nearby is singing something different. The whole reason you’d gone outside in the first place was to get away from the distractions of television and radio and all that crap and get inspired by the sounds of the city. It was working, too. You were half finished the song, with an idea for at least the next few bars. And now, all your work was flushed down the drain because the asshole who lives above you decided to step outside and start singing like they were a Disney princess or some shit. Your attention snaps, and your plans for the rest of your own song drift away.

_What the fuck._

You groan in frustration and glare up at the source of the voice - you can’t actually see them through the floor of their own little balcony, but you glare all the same.

_“There are worse things I could do....than go with a boy...or two. Even though the neighborhood thinks I’m trashy, and no good. I suppose it could be true, but there are worse things, I could do.”_

You think you might have heard this song in a movie or something, actually. No clue which one, but it definitely sounds vaguely familiar. You don’t know much about whoever’s singing it right now, though. But honestly, even if you were kind of sore about them interrupting your mixing session...they have a nice voice. It’s pretty, kind of sad, almost haunting. You’d almost think the song was written just for them, with they way they sang it.

You go quiet, and spend the next few minutes just listening to them sing.

 

* * *

 

It’s about the same time the next day that you hear that voice again. You hadn’t been mixing this time, just sitting around on your balcony, distracted by your thoughts, and then you heard it.

_“I could flirt with all the guys. Smile at them, and bat my eyes. Press against them when we dance, make them think they stand a chance, then refuse to see it through...that’s a thing I’d never do…”_

It’s the same song, and the same voice, but it sounds different today. Almost bitter. Did something happen? What the fuck...you don’t know who’s singing, you’ve never met them, don’t know what they look like, don’t know the first thing about them. You’ve just heard them sing a song a couple of times. And yet, you can’t help but wonder about them now, what they’re like, if they’re okay.

You want to meet them.

 

* * *

 

It’s been going on all week now. Every day for a week, at around the same time, that person comes out onto the balcony and sings that same song. You’ve grown to look forward to it. Today, especially, you’re excited. You’ve made your plan, and you’re ready.

And then you hear them.

_“I could stay home every night. Wait around for Mr. Right-”_

You’re quick to take your chance, jumping in. _“But Mr. Right lives right downstairs, so come on down, shed no more tears, it’ll just be me and you.”_

The voice had gone quiet almost instantly as you’d started singing. Maybe this had been a bad idea? You lapse into uncertain silence, listening carefully. A beat passes, then another, and for a moment, you’re worried that you scared them off.

Then you hear a new sound. Laughter. And god, it’s even better than the singing. You find yourself grinning as you listen to it, waiting for it to die down a bit before you speak. “So...is that a yes? Do I finally get to meet the owner of the mysterious voice I’ve been listening to all week?”

The voice is still laughing as they speak, not that you mind. You think you could listen to that sound for hours. “Well, I don’t know about that, ‘Mr. Right’.” Their speaking voice isn’t what you would have expected. It’s loud, kinda rough, but, currently, amused. Happy. “You got the words wrong, after all, so you couldn’t possibly be ‘Right’. The song’s called ‘There are Worse Things I Could Do’. Try again next time.” They stop speaking, instead humming the next few bars of the song. The voice grows fainter and fainter as they head back inside.

You grab your phone, holding down the home button. “Siri, google ‘There are Worse Things I Could Do lyrics’.”

 

* * *

 

You’re ready and waiting this time. You’d spent, like, an hour making sure you knew all the lyrics to that song. (You’d also watched _Grease_ while you were at it - apparently, that’s where the song was from.) Usually you’d watch lyric videos or something on youtube to do that, but you’d found yourself not liking to listen to any version of it that wasn’t sung by that voice. They just...couldn’t even compare.

Still, you’d managed to learn all the words, and when you hear the voice this time, you jump in again at the same part, singing a bit lower than the unseen owner of your voice; you don’t think you can hit the same notes as the voice upstairs.

_“-Take cold showers everyday, and throw my, life away, on a dream that won’t come true.”_

The voice sounds angry today, and it’s kind of throwing you off, but you get through the rest of the song with them, trailing off into silence as it ends. You have no clue what to say, but the silence is so thick it feels like you’re drowning in it.

“...Hey, are you okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Their speaking voice sounds different today too. Deeper, gruffer, more angry. It almost feels like a different person entirely from the one you’d been speaking to yesterday.

“Um...are you sure? I could, like, come up if you want, and you could tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I could help.”

“I _said_ I don’t want to talk about it!” The voice yells, and a door slams. They’re gone.

 

* * *

 

There’s no more singing for three days. You’re really worried, but what can you do? You don’t know the person who was singing, and last you spoke to them, they were very openly against talking to you about whatever it was that was bothering them.All you could really do was give them space and hope for the best.

Three days, and then suddenly, they’re back, and you can hear them singing that song again. You sit and listen in stunned silence for a moment before hurrying inside and grabbing your old guitar. God, it’s been ages since you’d played this thing. You can only hope it’s in tune. You get back outside just in time to catch the tail end of the song, playing along.

_“...I could hurt someone like me...out of spite, or jealousy… I don’t steal, and I don’t lie! But I can feel, and I can cry! A fact I’ll bet you never knew…!”_

Fuck. Oh, fuck, no. Something definitely happened. They sound so upset. You think...you think they might actually be crying.

The song fades to silence. You have no clue what to say, so you just sit, and listen. It feels like forever before the voice speaks.

“...Um...Mr. Right…?” God, they’re so quiet today.

“It’s Dave actually.”

“...Dave. My name’s Karkat.”

“Hey, Karkat.”

“Hi.”

 

* * *

 

You’ve still never actually met Karkat, but you sing with him for the rest of that week, always that same song. He never sounds quite happy singing that song. Well, it’s not a particularly happy song, but it still strikes you as odd that he always sounds so upset when he sings it. Some days are better than others, but the one thing that’s never changed is how much you love the sound of his voice. He’d been quite adamant about making sure you knew he was a he.

You talk a lot more now, before and after you sing. He tells you he’s learning the song for an audition; apparently some fairly popular theater group was having auditions for _Grease_ in the area. He’s auditioning for the role of Riza. You’re not quite sure why - he can sing her songs well, clearly, but you have no clue why he’d audition for a girl’s role. Actually, thinking about it now, he’s never actually said that he wanted to audition for her. Just that he is.

“Hey, Dave?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Yeah, what’s up man?”

He’s silent for a moment, and you’re starting to wonder if he’s just not going to bother saying anything, but then he does. “...My audition is tomorrow.”

“...Oh. Um. Does that make this our last jam session?” Again, he’s silent. You take that as a yes. “I mean, that’s fine dude. Um. Good luck, then. Or, uh, break a leg?”

“...Do you want to come up?”

You pause, surprised at the sudden invitation. He’d never actually offered to let you come over before, and he’d turned you down every time you’d invited him down. “What? I mean, uh, yeah. I’d like that. Um...did you mean right now?”

“Get up here before I change my mind, asshole.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’ll be right up.” You don’t wait for a reply, heading inside and locking the balcony door. You grab your keys and phone, and then you’re out of there, hurrying up the stairs rather than taking the elevator. And then you’re in the hall, walking fast but trying not to look like you’re rushing, and there he is.

You’re not sure what you’d expected him to look like, but this wasn’t it. Not that he looked bad. Short, with big eyes and messy hair and a sweater that was at least two sizes two big. He’s cute.

He’d been rocking on his heels, but pauses when he sees you approach. “...Dave?”

That’s the voice. You’re finally seeing the person who owns it. “Um. Hi, Karkat.”

“Hey. Uh, you want to come in?”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.”

You trail after him into his apartment, closing the door behind you. You hadn’t expected it to be this awkward actually meeting him face to face. He takes a seat in the living room and, unsure of what else to do, you follow and perch in a nearby chair. “...So. Nice place you’ve got here. Cleaner than mine by far. Man, it’s a good thing I ended up coming up here and not the other way around. Like, what was I thinking inviting you over, you’d probably hate my apartment, like-”

“Will you come to my audition with me tomorrow?”

You stop talking, staring in surprise. “Um...what?”

He huffs, glancing away. He looks frustrated, like he can’t quite find the right words. “I just...I don’t think I can do this audition if I’m by myself.”

You stare at him in silence for a moment, not sure what to say. Whether it’s good or not, the words leave your mouth before you think about them. “You don’t want to audition for Riza.” He shakes his head. “Then...why are you doing it?”

He doesn’t speak for a moment, doesn’t look at you. For a second, you think you pushed some line, and you’re about to apologize, until he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steel his nerves. “I...I have to do the girl auditions.”

You stare at him in confusion. “But you’re a boy.”

“I am. But not a lot of people know I’m a boy.”

Oh. _Oh._ You nod slightly as the pieces click into place. At the same time, an idea starts forming in your head. “...Yeah. I’ll go with you.” He offers you this halfhearted smile, more like he thinks that’s what the appropriate response is than like he’s actually happy. You’re going to make sure he smiles for real. “...So. Want to try that song one more time before the audition?”

 

* * *

 

_“But to cry in front of you…? That’s the worst thing I could do.”_

 

* * *

 

You pull the director aside before the auditions start. Well, you assume he’s the director, at least; from what you’ve gathered, he’s the one in charge of this whole audition process. Does that make him a director?

His official position isn’t important now. What _is_ important is getting him to understand. And a few whispered words later, he does. He nods to you, then turns to look at the audition groups, split by gender, still pacing and warming up their voices and shaking out the nerves. “Karkat Vantas?”

Karkat looks up, confused. He knows it’s not time for his audition yet; it’s supposed to go in alphabetical order, and it would just be starting now.

“Can you go warm up with the rest of the boys, please?”

A storm of emotions cross his face, one right after the other. Relief, confusion, bewilderment, understanding. His gaze settles on you as he moves to where the boys are warming up.

He smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of DaveKat Week was AU/Trope day so I did a musical AU because I'm a musical theater nerd, oops.


End file.
